


Not Your Type

by andthenshesaid-write (ladyknight1512)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief mention of animal hunting, Cinderella Inspired, M/M, Masquerade Ball, Pining, Prince Phil, servant dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknight1512/pseuds/andthenshesaid-write
Summary: Dan has been valet to Prince Phil for ten years and has managed to keep his feelings a secret because he knows they can never be together. When the royal family throws a masquerade ball to celebrate Phil’s 25th birthday, Dan takes the opportunity to finally face Phil as an equal.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 71





	Not Your Type

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the [Phandom Reverse Bang’s](https://phandomreversebang.tumblr.com/) Face the Music event and inspired by the amazing art by [snekydingdong](https://snekydingdong.tumblr.com/) (which you should definitely [check out](https://snekydingdong.tumblr.com/post/640463799087923200/not-your-type) because it's beautiful!) and the song she chose, [’Your Type’ by Carly Rae Jepsen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlFMVzo9zuE). Thanks to [microoowave](https://microoowave.tumblr.com/) for being a great beta.

Dan flung the curtains open and squinted against the late winter sun that streamed through the window.

“Rise and shine, Your Highness. It’s a big day.”

He smirked at the muffled groan from behind him and turned to face the enormous canopied bed. The lump of a person wriggled deeper under the mound of blankets until only a mess of dark hair peeked out onto the pillow.

Dan rolled his eyes and strode over to the side of the bed. If it had been anyone else in there, he would have yanked the blankets back to let in the cool morning air, but you didn’t do that with a prince, even one who insisted they were friends.

“Your family will be here for your birthday breakfast soon,” Dan said. “If you don’t get up you’ll be receiving them in your bedclothes.”

A deep huffing sigh emerged from the blankets and an arm snaked free to pull the blankets down enough for Phil’s eyes to meet his own.

“It’s my birthday,” Phil said, voice rough with sleep. “No one should have to wake up early on their birthday.”

Dan raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I wake up before dawn every day of the year to make sure your morning routine runs smoothly. I don’t want to hear any complaints from you.”

“I could have you flogged for that kind of cheek.”

“You could, but you won’t. Now up!” Dan clapped his hands twice. “I trust you can get yourself into the bath without my help.”

Dan turned away to rifle through Phil’s wardrobe and smiled in satisfaction when Phil’s feet thumped onto the floor and Phil staggered into the adjoining bathroom. A moment later, the gentle splash of him settling into water filtered into the bedroom. Dan nodded a greeting to the chambermaid who entered to straighten the bed and then took Phil’s clothes for the day – soft fawn trousers, a white shirt, a dark green jacket, socks and boots – into the dressing room.

The sounds of splashing were louder as he lay out the clothes and rolled the brown laces of the jacket between his fingers. It was ten years to the day that he’d started acting as manservant to the younger prince – a gift for Phil from the king and queen, who’d said Phil was a man now and ought to have a valet of his own. Phil had been a gangly 15-year-old that day and Dan a couple of years younger. He could still remember the way he’d trembled when he’d arrived to help Phil dress for his birthday dinner, but Phil had been so kind and shared the easy, relaxed air that made his parents so beloved, and Dan’s nerves had disappeared. They’d grown into a genuine friendship over the years, but where they would be in another ten years was a mystery. The ball that night was being held in honour of Phil’s 25th birthday, but dignitaries from all the nearby countries had been invited – as had their eligible sons, in the hope that Phil would finally choose someone to settle down with. 

Dan’s stomach rolled at the thought. Phil had had his fair share of dalliances over the years – what prince hadn’t? – but there was never anyone serious. Seeing Phil with those other men had been difficult but easier to bear with the knowledge that eventually Phil would tire of them. The hardest part of it all was knowing that Phil would never look at _him_ that way.

“Is something wrong?”

Dan jumped and spun, his hand pressed to his heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Phil chuckled, wrapping his robe more snugly around himself. “It’s not my fault you were so caught up in my clothes.”

Dan blushed and cleared his throat. “Make sure you dry your hair properly. You always miss the ends and then drip on your shoulders.”

Phil rolled his eyes goodnaturedly before his head disappeared under a towel.

Dan helped Phil dress with the practiced nonchalance crucial to his position. It was easier now than it had been a few years before, when Dan had realised his feelings for Phil had shifted. He no longer had to fight back a blush while he smoothed the creases from Phil’s shoulders and straightened the back of Phil’s jacket. Phil tried to catch his eye a few times but Dan studiously ignored him, worried that even a moment of connection would give him away. He knew that he could never have Phil the way he wanted, that Phil was destined for a duke’s son or a younger prince from a foreign nation, so he wouldn’t risk their friendship by forcing Phil to have to let him down gently. Neither of them would survive the awkwardness, if nothing else.

Once Phil was dressed, he brushed his hands through his hair while Dan plucked the discarded bedclothes from the bathroom floor, then Dan followed Phil out through the bedroom to the sitting room where he entertained friends. Dan stopped short in the doorway when Phil’s parents, brother and sister-in-law turned to face them.

“Happy birthday, my dear,” the queen said, reaching out to pull Phil into a hug. When they parted, she turned to Dan with a gentle smile. “Good morning, Dan.”

As much as he tried to keep his face straight, Dan couldn’t fight back the smile that crossed his face. The royal family was surprisingly warm to the servants in the palace, particularly the family’s personal staff. He’d had nothing but kind words from them in the ten years he’d been Phil’s manservant.

He bowed deeply. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Is there anything I can get you?”

“No, thank you.” She gestured to the breakfast spread across the low sitting room table. “We have everything we need.”

Phil turned to him and nodded. “I’ll be alright for the rest of the day, but I’ll meet you here before the ball? To get ready?”

Dan nodded. “Yes, sir. Enjoy your breakfast.”

He bowed to them again before he retreated from the room and closed the door gently behind him. He allowed himself a moment to slump back against the door with a sigh – he’d survived another morning in Phil’s company without making an absolute fool of himself – and then pulled himself together. 

He dodged servants bustling through the halls on his way down to the laundry, where he dropped off Phil’s bedclothes before ducking around to the kitchen to look for his mother.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity, filled with the only people in the palace who’d been awake longer than he had that day. The ovens were roaring with a heat that completely burned the winter cold from his fingers and every surface was piled high with foods either being prepped for cooking or waiting to be elegantly arranged. 

He spied his mother in a nearby corner, working to peel a pile of carrots so tall only her white cap was visible over them.

“Alright, Ma?” he asked, pressing himself against the wall beside her in an effort to be as out of the way as possible.

She spared him a glance before turning her attention back to the carrots. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have things to do? It’s your prince’s birthday we’re doing all this for, after all.”

“He’s not _my_ prince.”

Her lips pursed in that way they did when she knew he was trying to lie. “If he’s not yours, then whose is he?”

His shoulders slumped. “I think that’s what the ball is supposed to figure out.”

She dropped her peeled carrot into the tub beside her and took a moment to flex her hands while she stared him down. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He frowned. “Help him dress?”

She rolled her eyes. “And then maybe you could go to the ball yourself and try to make an impression. It’s a masquerade – you won’t even have to worry about anyone questioning why you’re there.”

“But Phil won’t recognise me either!”

She grabbed another carrot and set to peeling it. “Tell him afterwards! Or don’t! Just have your dance with him and move on with your life. But you have to do something more than just let yourself pine away like this forever.”

“Can’t I just ignore it until he marries someone else?”

“If that’s what you want.” She met his eyes steadily. “But I don’t think you do.” She shooed him away. “Now off with you. We’re busy and unless you’re willing to make yourself useful, there’s nothing for you here.”

Dan backed out of the kitchen into the courtyard, where servants were decorating the front stairs and windows with evergreen branches. In a few hours the front drive would be crowded with carriages, filled with guests in their finest silks and furs, bejewelled and sparkling. Dan would stand out like a sore thumb amongst them.

He shook his head at himself. He wasn’t really considering this, was he? What his mother had suggested was madness. He might get caught, but that was the least of his worries – he could probably explain to Phil that he’d just wanted to see the ballroom all decked out and Phil would let him off.

But what if he _didn’t_ get caught? What if he was actually able to talk to Phil without their positions between them? What if they could laugh and dance in front of everyone and not raise any eyebrows? Phil would never settle with him anyway – there had never been any hope of that – so why couldn’t Dan have this one night? Tomorrow they could go back to being prince and manservant and no one would ever be the wiser.

Dan glanced down at his blue livery, the gold lion embroidered over his heart – a signal to everyone that he worked directly for the royal family. If this plan was going to work, he would need some help.

He hurried through the courtyard, out the front gates and down into the city. He ducked through the crowds of people lining the streets, all trying to get their business done in time for the birthday celebrations that night. Obviously the regular townspeople weren’t invited to the palace for the official festivities, but that had never stopped them from hosting their own celebrations in the city streets.

The house Dan lived in with his mother and grandmother was in the part of the city where the comfortable-enough middle-class met the squat houses of the poor. Between Dan’s work for Phil and his mother’s work in the palace kitchen, they made just enough money to keep them comfortable, but couldn’t afford many luxuries. Sometimes Nana took in clothes for mending and Dan’s brother, who’d found work on a trading ship the year before, sent home a bit of extra money. On those occasions they could afford to treat themselves.

“Nana?” he called out as he stepped into what passed as an entrance hall in their house. A rustle turned his attention to the sitting room and he went through to find her comfortable by the fire, wrapping a skein of wool around her hands.

She frowned when she looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the palace?”

He grimaced. “Probably, but I need your help. I’m going to the ball tonight. I need nicer clothes, so I don’t stand out too much, and a mask.”

Her lips pursed in thought as she looked him up and down, then nodded decisively and pushed herself out of her chair. “Come with me. I can’t work miracles, but there are some old clothes of your grandfather’s that I should be able to do something with.”

Dan followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom, where he settled on the plain brown bedspread while she rummaged in a trunk full of his grandfather’s old things. Eventually she held up a dark grey jacket with a silver pattern stitched around the wrists that trailed delicately up the arms. There were two rows of eyelets lining the neck where a cord should have been to tie the collar closed but they were currently empty.

“Come here and try this on,” she said and he jumped up to remove his tunic and then let her slide the jacket over his head. 

She tugged at the hem and tutted as she plucked at the shoulders. “You’re not as broad as your grandfather was, but I can take the shoulders in with some clever tricks and no one will notice. You’ll have to wear your own shirt but there’s a pair of black trousers here that will work.”

“What about a mask?”

“You’ll have to take care of that yourself. We were hardly being invited to masquerade balls.” She huffed a laugh. “Though I suppose you haven’t been either. Maybe if we’d had the guts to sneak into the palace I’d be able to help you now.”

“It’s not sneaking in if I work there.”

She smirked. “That’s the spirit, dear.”

The jacket was yanked back over his head and he shook his head to settle his curls back into place.

“Thank you, Nana,” he said, tugging his tunic back on. “I’ll owe you so many favours for this.”

She rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. “Never mind that. You go sort out your mask and I’ll see you back here tonight to get ready.”

He left her sorting through more clothes and made a stop in the bedroom he used to share with his brother, but was now just his. He missed the company of his brother but, in his more honest moments, he admitted that he enjoyed having his own space more, even though the room wasn’t big. Three of Dan’s bedrooms could have fit in Phil’s, and that didn’t even take into account the rest of Phil’s suite of rooms.

He dug into the corner of the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled out a small sack of coins. It was supposed to be for emergencies but he would have to make an exception. He counted out several gold coins to drop into the pouch of silver hanging from his belt, then he returned the sack to its hiding place and left the house, calling out a goodbye to Nana.

Thankfully, getting a mask would be easier than it might be on an ordinary day. The townspeople had taken the masquerade theme in stride and had collectively decided that they would wear masks to their own celebrations. Milliners had temporarily expanded their inventories to include masks so Dan headed for a shop in the nicer part of the city. Maybe a beautiful mask would distract from his clothes, which would be nice but definitely not as elaborate as what the invited guests would be wearing.

The shop he stepped into was quiet and cool, empty apart from the milliner, who was attending to a delicate woman in a heavily-skirted pink dress, and a shop assistant.

“Good morning, sir,” the assistant said, eyeing Dan’s uniform with barely concealed interest. “Are you here to pick something up for someone?”

“Actually, I’d like to buy a mask. For myself. Obviously.” Dan grimaced at himself and turned to inspect a stand of feathered masks by the door.

“Of course.” The assistant seemed to be taking it all in stride. “May I ask what you’re wearing this evening?”

“Oh, well, black trousers, white shirt, dark grey jacket.” At the perk of the assistant’s eyebrow, Dan hastened to add, “The jacket has silver detailing.”

The assistant’s face brightened. “In that case, what about one of these?”

Dan followed him over to a rack of simpler masks than the feathered ones by the door, though they were by no means plain. Some were full face masks, some covered only the eyes and nose, but many featured either black or silver swirling patterns. Some looked like lace, some like leaves; some glittered with stones and one was even shaped like a cat. The one that caught his eye was a vertical half-face, which he picked up and held over his face when he turned to a nearby mirror.

It started with a point that curled around the left of his forehead, down the left side of his face, covered his nose and chin, and then ended in another point on the right side of his jaw, almost like a crescent moon. A piece extended out from the nose to curve around the right eye. The matte black was decorated with constellations in silver paint and occasionally studded with small jewels. The edges of the mask featured star bursts at regular intervals. Phil would never recognise him in something like this; Dan barely recognised himself.

“It suits you, sir,” the assistant said, jarring Dan back to the present.

“Thank you. I’ll take it.”

The assistant boxed the mask for him and Dan just barely managed to hold back a wince as he handed over most of the gold coins he’d collected from his savings. It would be worth it, he repeated to himself as he left the shop with the box tucked under his arm. How much was the chance for a dance with Phil worth?

Seven gold coins apparently, a cynical voice in the back of his head said before he forced it away and returned to the palace. He entrusted the mask to his mother in the kitchen and then rushed back up to Phil’s suite to prepare Phil’s clothes for the evening. He spent the rest of the afternoon polishing buttons, boots and jewellery, stitching up a thread that had come loose from the cuff of Phil’s shirt, and making sure there were no creases in his jacket or trousers. Phil, who had spent the day riding through the surrounding countryside with friends and entertaining visiting nobility, returned to his room as the sun was setting.

Dan had already rung the bell for hot water to be brought up and was directing the chambermaids as they ferried the pots into the bathroom.

“I thought you might like to take another bath,” Dan said. “You don’t want to meet your future husband smelling like horse.”

Phil bent his head to sniff his own shoulder. “I smell like horse?”

“Yes. Obviously you can’t smell it on yourself because you’ve been in it all day.”

Phil shrugged and stepped into the bathroom once the chambermaids had left.

“Don’t take too long!” Dan called. “You can’t be late to your own ball!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the one ball I _can_ be late to. I’m the guest of honour – they can’t start without me.”

Still, Phil must have hurried because he was ready to be dressed just fifteen minutes later and Dan held up the shirt to slip it over Phil’s head. Ten minutes later, once Dan had tied all the laces and fastened all the buttons on Phil’s jacket and trousers, Phil slid on his signet ring and then settled the crown on his forehead. Dan tied Phil’s mask around his head – it matched the gold of Phil’s buttons and covered his eyes and nose, with spiky rays like a rising sun reaching up from the top. Then, Dan stood back to admire him.

In his crisp white trousers and dark blue jacket with gold buttons and heavy gold embroidery, Phil looked like a prince out of a fairytale. It was like adulthood had come upon him suddenly, while Dan had had his back turned. It made Dan’s stomach ache.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice was unusually hesitant. “Did you mean what you said before? About me meeting my future husband tonight?”

Dan bit the inside of his lip to keep from flinching. “That’s how I understand the situation. Or at least, that’s what you told me your parents are hoping for. Certainly, you have to marry soon. It’s what’s expected.”

“But what if there’s no one there I like?”

Dan tried to smile reassuringly. “At least a hundred guests have been invited, many of them eligible young men. I’m sure there’ll be at least one you like well enough.” 

Phil huffed a laugh tinged with bitterness. “Is that all I should hope for then? Someone I ‘like well enough’?”

“It’s better than being forced to settle with someone you don’t like at all.”

“Have you ever been in love?” The question was almost fierce in its directness.

Dan paused and then said slowly, “Yes.”

Phil glanced away. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I never told him.”

At that, Phil’s eyes shot back to him. “Why not?”

Dan shrugged. “There was no point – he could never be with me anyway. Better to spare myself the pain and embarrassment.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dan turned away to pile up Phil’s dirty clothes. “It’s fine. Now, you’d better be going.”

“Right.” Phil cleared his throat. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“I’m attending one of the celebrations. Will you need me here to help you get ready for bed?”

Phil shook his head. “I’ll manage.”

“In that case I’ll turn the blankets down and lay out your bedclothes before I go, so they’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

The silence was unusually heavy and seemed to drag out an unbearably long time before Phil turned and left the room. Dan finally felt like he could breathe when he heard the door to Phil’s suite close.

He hurried to turn down Phil’s bed, put out his bedclothes and then pile the dirty clothes into his arms to deliver to the laundry in the lower levels of the palace. From there, he jogged through the courtyard and down into the city.

The revelry had already started in the streets, with townspeople decked out in their best clothes and masks, dancing and singing. The taverns had thrown open their doors and were passing out free drinks. When Dan finally reached his house, Nana was waiting for him in the sitting room.

“The clothes are in your room,” she said, nursing a cup of tea. “I polished your boots for you, too.”

He grinned. “Thank you!”

She waved him away with a chuckle as he bounded up the stairs. The clothes were waiting on his bed, just as she’d promised, and he wriggled out of his clothes, briefly mourning the fact that he wouldn’t have time for a bath but he was already going to be late and he didn’t want to risk adding the extra time.

The clothes fit him perfectly, and she had repaired some of the frayed embroidery on the sleeves and added a thick silver cord to lace the collar up high around his throat. When he returned downstairs and held out his arms for her to see the result, Nana gasped.

“Oh.” She smiled softly. “You look so handsome.”

Dan blushed. “I won’t hold up against any of the other guests.”

“Of course you will! And besides, you have one thing most of them don’t.”

“What?”

“A direct line to the prince.”

“But he won’t know it’s me.”

Her forehead creased and she tilted her head. “You don’t think so?”

“He doesn’t expect me to be there, and even if he did, nothing will come of it. Tomorrow morning I’ll go back to being his servant and nothing will have changed.”

She hummed in thought. “You’re probably right.”

“I have to go,” he said and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back late and then I’ll be gone early, so I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Have a good night!” she called out as he left the house.

Dan had to pause to take a breath and brace himself for the journey back up to the palace. He’d made this journey too many times already today and he wanted to hurry, but he also didn’t want to arrive at the ball flushed and sweating. A brisk walk would have to do.

The streets were even more crowded on the way back up than they had been on the way down. Several people tried to pull him into dances or thrust a drink into his hands, but he managed to bat them away and not get sidetracked. Once back in the courtyard, he stopped in at the kitchen, where he managed to collect his mask without being bowled over by the whirlwind of activity, and then ducked into a mercifully empty corridor on one of the lower levels to tie the mask around his head.

The ballroom was on the first floor and Dan was able to pass through the palace without being stopped or raising eyebrows. With the mask covering most of his face, he was just another guest on his way to the celebration. But he couldn’t enter through the main door – it would draw too much attention. Instead, he made sure he wasn’t being watched and then slid into the servants’ passage that ran parallel to the ballroom. The music reverberated through the wall but the conversation of a hundred voices was an indecipherable murmur. He stopped at the door that opened from the servants’ passage into the ballroom and inched it open to peek out. There were a couple of groups gathered around but no-one was nearby or looking in his direction. Taking a deep breath, Dan nudged the door open just wide enough for him to slip into the room and then pressed it closed with his back. When no-one questioned his sudden appearance, the breath he’d taken rushed out in a sigh of relief and he began circling the room, staying by the wall.

The room was warm and bright with the hundreds of candles reflecting off the gold decorations. The orchestra, settled on a dais against one wall, was just winding down a song, and the guests gracing the dancefloor were finishing a dance. Servants in simple brown tunics and trousers cycled through the elaborately dressed guests, carrying food and drinks on trays. Everyone except the servants was masked.

The king and queen were seated on thrones at the head of the room, raised slightly above the crowd. The crown prince and his wife were leaving the dancefloor, flushed and laughing. But where was Phil? And when he found him, how was Dan going to get his attention? People didn’t just approach princes and ask them to dance – it was the kind of thing a person had to wait and hope for.

A group of women moved, opening a space in the crowd through which Dan finally caught a glimpse of Phil. He was sipping a drink and laughing with several friends, not paying any attention to the people around him, although there were a number of young men loitering nearby, trying to look inconspicuous.

One of Phil’s friends nudged him with an elbow and subtly tilted his head towards one of the men. Phil leaned in towards his friends and they murmured for a couple of minutes, before Phil straightened his shoulders, handed off his glass to a nearby servant and approached the man, who at least made the effort to look like he hadn’t been hoping for this exact opportunity.

They spoke, the man grinned and then Phil led him to the dancefloor. Dan gulped down a drink while he watched them, more openly than everyone else was. They moved well together. A couple of times Phil tripped over his own feet and they laughed while the other man steadied him. When the dance was over, Phil took the man back over to his waiting circle of friends and introduced them.

Dan’s stomach rolled. What was he even doing here? Why had he bothered to put himself through all this? Phil was a prince – he was never going to look at Dan twice, assuming he ever even looked at him once.

But wasn’t that the point? Dan didn’t need Phil to look at him twice. He just wanted one dance, one moment where he could be with Phil as an equal in front of everyone. He would be happy if he could just have that.

He eyed the rest of the young men loitering around, all of them now ranging from irritated to disappointed. None of them would approach Phil directly because it wasn’t how the nobility did things. But Dan wasn’t nobility and he was going to “disappear” after tonight anyway – he had nothing to lose, except maybe his dignity if Phil rejected him in front of everyone, although Dan thought he knew Phil well enough to know he wouldn’t do that.

Dan knocked back the rest of his drink, set his glass on a table and strode towards Phil’s group of friends.

“Excuse me?” he said, when he stopped at Phil’s back.

They all turned to look at him, falling silent. Behind his mask, Phil blinked.

“Your Highness.” Dan bowed deeply. “I wondered if you might honour me with a dance?”

Phil was very still but the man he’d danced with before glanced around at the group and then said to Dan, “I’m sorry – who are you?”

“No one you know,” Dan said and then boldly held a hand out towards Phil, palm up. His heart almost beat out of his chest when Phil slid his own hand into it.

They moved to the edge of the dancefloor, where they took up their positions and Phil began to lead them through the motions.

“Do you have a name?” Phil asked. There was something in his voice that Dan couldn’t place – gentle curiosity, maybe? Dan couldn’t blame him for that.

“I do,” he replied, aiming for coy and probably falling short, “but it’s not important.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you to dance to pull your attention or snag myself a royal husband.”

Phil’s head tilted. “Then why did you?”

“I just wanted to dance with you. I’ll be gone tomorrow so I figured I should take the chance while I had it.”

“You’re very bold.”

Dan smirked. “Thank you.”

Phil shook his head, an amused smile playing around the corner of his mouth. “Most people wouldn’t walk up to a prince without a formal introduction and ask him to dance.”

Dan shrugged. “I’m not most people.”

“What if I want to find you again after tonight?”

That made the words stick in Dan’s throat. The idea that Phil might actually _want_ to see him again after the ball had never occurred to him.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because, like I said, most people don’t just ask princes to dance, but I like the kind of person who would. Everyone else is too scared to offend me to approach me directly. They think that I should be responsible for talking to them first, just because I wear a crown.”

“You’re more than just a crown, though,” Dan said, before he could stop himself. “You’re a person.”

A grin stretched across Phil’s face and Dan couldn’t help smiling in return. “Exactly.”

Dan was ready to walk away when the dance ended but Phil grabbed his hand tightly before he had a chance to say goodbye.

“Let me introduce you to my friends,” Phil said, already tugging him back towards the crowd.

Dan resisted. “Oh, that’s okay. They don’t know me and–”

“That’s why I would be introducing you!”

“But you don’t know me either!”

Phil shot him a searching look. “Then there’s no pressure – you can be whoever you want. That was kind of the point of the masks, you know. In a mask, everyone's the same.”

Dan wavered a moment more before giving in. He’d never interacted with Phil’s friends beyond polite pleasantries when they were all out on a trip. None of them had probably ever paid enough attention to him to recognise him now, and this was the last place they would expect him to be anyway. Making conversation with them couldn’t be that hard.

All of them, including the man Phil had danced with earlier, were eyeing Dan and Phil when they rejoined the group – his friends bright-eyed with curiosity, the man with the pursed lips of displeasure.

“This is–” Phil began enthusiastically and then swallowed his words. “Well, I guess we should call him the Man of Mystery.”

Dan huffed a laugh. “Very dramatic. I like it.”

“Thank you!” Phil then introduced his friends – three men and a woman – and the man he’d danced with earlier, who was named William and was the son of a duke that Dan probably should have known more about.

The conversation was stilted at first, everyone clearly dying to ask about Dan’s identity, but then one of Phil’s friends turned the conversation to the first hunt of the spring, which they were all looking forward to.

“What do you think, Lord Mystery?” the woman said, turning to him with a giggle. “Do you hunt?”

He hunted down Phil’s dirty socks every day, but that probably didn’t count. “No. Actually, I find the whole practice abhorrent. Chasing down and killing a defenceless animal for sport seems unnecessary.”

“Not just for sport!” said one of the men. “The whole palace feasts when we bring down a boar!”

“The whole _court_ feasts,” Dan corrected. “The servants don’t see anything of the boar after they bring it back to the palace and skin and cook it.”

“You don’t spend much time in the country, then?” the woman said, clearly trying to fill the awkward silence that ensued.

Dan had never even been to the country unless he was accompanying Phil. “No, not really.”

“Why haven’t any of us seen you in town?” William asked and continued with a laugh, “You haven’t been locked in an attic for the last 20 years, have you? Like in a novel?”

“I’ve been around. Maybe you have seen me and you just don’t remember.”

Phil held his hands up between them. “We don’t need to argue about this. It doesn’t matter where he came from or where he’s been, he’s here now.”

The way everyone else turned to stare at Phil made it clear they disagreed and Dan honestly couldn’t blame them. As far as they were concerned, he could have been anyone and he’d swooped in and stolen their prince’s attention. There was no telling what his motives were or what harm he might cause, especially when he was so clearly different from the rest of them. They would be right to warn Phil away.

“I’m going to find a drink,” Dan said. “Excuse me.”

Phil gripped his elbow as he turned away. “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

Dan’s stomach tightened and he forced a smile. “Of course.”

But as soon as he’d been swallowed up by the crowd, he made a beeline for the servants’ entrance he’d come through earlier. It would have been nice to stay at the ball and talk and dance with Phil longer, but that wasn’t what he’d come here for and the conversation with Phil’s friends had driven home that Dan was a guest in this world. He didn’t belong here. Not in the midst of it anyway. He eyed one of the servants stationed along the wall as he passed – he should be one of them, on the outskirts, waiting for Phil to need him.

He made sure no one was watching before he opened the servants’ door and slipped into the passage. As soon as the door had closed behind him, he tugged loose the bow securing the mask around his head and let it fall into his hands. The rush of cool air across his warm face was a relief he hadn’t known he’d needed.

He left the palace via the laundry, which was empty at that time of night, and wandered through the courtyard and back into the city, where the celebrations were still going strong. There would be a lot of heavy heads and bleary eyes in the morning, but the townspeople would still open their shops and go about their business as they did every day. Only the nobility had the luxury of a promised lie-in in the morning. Phil would probably want breakfast in bed.

The windows of his house were dark when he reached the front door. Nana wasn’t one for staying up late and his mother needed to be awake and at the palace even earlier than Dan did. He let himself in quietly and crept up the stairs, taking care to step over the ones that creaked. 

Still, when he reached the landing, the door to Nana’s bedroom opened and her head peeked out.

“How did it go?” she asked, sleepily.

“I got my dance.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “And nothing. I don’t fit in there. I have nothing in common with those people.”

Her face fell in a sigh. “Oh, Dan. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I got what I wanted and I wasn’t expecting anything else anyway.” He yawned and it felt like the manic running back and forth hit him all at once. “I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright. Good night, dear.” She closed the door gently and he continued down the hall.

When he entered his room, he shut the door behind him and dropped his mask on top of the dresser. Then he flopped face-first onto his bed and was asleep before he even thought to remove his boots.

* * *

He was woken too soon by a hurried pounding. 

“Dan!” Nana slapped her hand against his door several times. “Dan, wake up!”

Even in his half-asleep state, he could hear how frantic she was and he pushed himself up towards the door, which he flung open. Her hair was still plaited for sleep over her shoulder and she had a shawl thrown over her nightgown, the ends hanging unevenly over her elbows.

“What’s going on?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He glanced towards his window, thinking they might have overslept and that he was late for work, but the sky was still much too dark for that.

“The prince is here!”

That shocked the fogginess of sleep from him. “What?!”

She pointed towards his window and then rushed past him to peek behind one of the curtains. “He’s here!”

He followed her towards the window and peered out over her head, sure she must have made a mistake. Except she hadn’t. The royal carriage had just pulled to a stop outside their house, and the few people out and about had stopped to stare, and Phil was stepping onto the street.

“You have to go down and greet him,” Nana said, flapping her hands to encourage him to hurry. “We can’t keep him waiting. Your mother’s already left for work and I’m not even dressed!”

With dawning horror, Dan realised he was still dressed in his clothes from the ball. “I can’t greet him like this! He’ll know!”

“Oh, Dan!” She pushed him towards the door with an exasperated huff. “He’s here! He already knows!”

They froze at the steady knock on the front door and then Nana shoved him again. “Go! You can’t keep the prince waiting on the front step. What will the neighbours say?”

“I think they’ll have more to say about him being here at all,” he said, but he went, trying to smooth the wrinkles from his clothes.

He stopped short of the front door to check himself in the hall mirror before he opened it, and let out a low groan at his sleep-mussed hair and the pillow creases in his cheek. He ran his fingers through his hair, in the hope that that might help, and then opened the door.

Seeing Phil on his doorstep felt like something in his brain breaking. There was nothing about this that made any sense. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Dan existed on the edges of Phil’s world, but Phil was never supposed to exist in his.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Dan said, because he had to say something and politeness won. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you,” Phil replied, and stepped inside.

Dan showed him into the sitting room, trying to see the worn but comfortable couches and Nana’s knitting basket through the eyes of someone used to palaces.

“Can I get you anything?” Dan asked as Phil wandered over to the mantle to inspect the figurines Dan’s brother had sent them from his travels.

Phil shook his head, turning a model of a boat over in his hand before setting it down gently. When Phil turned around to face him again, his gaze automatically dropped to Dan’s clothes and Dan felt a yawning gulf open in the pit of his stomach. They couldn’t pretend last night hadn’t happened now that it was obvious Phil knew.

“What are you doing here?” Dan asked. There was no point edging around it.

“I came to find you.”

Dan frowned, not sure how to respond when that was the last thing he had expected Phil to say. If Phil had said that Dan had acted inappropriately or that he had come to fire him, that would have been acceptable because it would have made sense. But this? This he could never have planned for.

“...Why?”

“You didn’t come back.” 

When Dan was stunned into silence, Phil continued, “You left to get a drink and you said you would come back, but you never did. I looked for you later, but you were gone and no one could remember seeing you after we danced together.”

“When did you figure out it was me?”

Phil laughed. “I always knew. I’ve woken up to your face every day for the last ten years. How could I not know?”

Dan pouted and folded his arms across his chest. “I thought I was being sneaky.”

“You fooled everyone else, if that makes you feel better, but you could never fool me. I would know you anywhere.”

Dan froze and then glanced up at Phil’s face, which was hesitant in a way Dan had never seen before. The realisation of what was going on knocked at the back of Dan’s brain but he didn’t want to open the door to it unless he was wrong. He’d never had hope before and he’d been able to live with that because Phil was a prince and Dan was a servant, and that was the way of things. To have hope now and then be shot down would kill something in him. Still, a bigger part of him wanted to know.

“You woke up early,” he began slowly, “got dressed and came all the way down here to see me?”

Phil gave a small, embarrassed shrug. “Yes… except I didn’t wake up early because I never got to sleep in the first place. I just lay awake thinking about you.”

There was a roaring in Dan’s ears and he clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. 

“I kept thinking about what you said last night,” Phil continued. “About how you wanted to dance with me so you just asked. It made me think about how I’ve never asked for what I really want.”

“What do you want?” It seemed like all the noise of the world had been turned off and Dan’s words echoed in the silence that stretched between them.

Phil took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and moved closer, until they were standing almost toe to toe.

“I want you, Dan. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you’re my servant and–”

“And it would make people talk, I know. You should be with a prince or the son of a duke, like William, or–”

“Stop!” Phil stepped closer still and took Dan’s hands in his. “No! I never said anything because I didn’t want you to feel obligated if you didn’t feel the same. But last night there you were! It made me hope that maybe you do feel the same after all. It was a lot of effort to go to if you don’t.”

A grin spread across Dan’s face and he tightened his fingers around Phil’s to stop himself flinging his arms around his shoulders.

“What about your parents?” Dan said, although he was so happy at that moment that he didn’t really care. “And your friends? What will they say?”

Phil shrugged. “My mother’s been pestering me to say something to you for months and my friends will get over the shock. They’re not bad people. They’re just used to what they’re used to. It will probably be harder on you than anyone else and it probably wouldn’t be appropriate if you were still dressing me every day, but we can find you another position within the palace until things get more serious. Are you alright with that?”

“You mean someone else will have to pick your clothes up off the floor every day? How ever will I cope?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “I could have you flogged for that kind of cheek.”

“But you won’t.”

Phil ducked his head shyly. “Maybe I should just kiss you instead.”

Dan’s breath stuttered and he swallowed hard. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“I don’t care,” Phil said, stepping closer.

Their lips met and Dan’s heart soared.

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog on tumblr [here](https://andthenshesaid-write.tumblr.com/post/640449831090946048/not-your-type).


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